


Hide Out In the Woods

by Maimat



Series: Sorta Like 7-Eleven [2]
Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:19:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maimat/pseuds/Maimat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looks like the opening credits of a horror movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hide Out In the Woods

"What the fuck are we doing out here?"

"Stop your fucking whining, you sound like an old woman."

"Shut the fuck up."

And so it went. The wind howled through the trees, and the blowing snow stung their eyes and cheeks. Connor could barely feel his feet and the damn scarf he was wearing was wet with condensation from his breath. The night was dark, no moon, no stars, just a small patch of glowing pink sky off in the distance above the nearest town and their crappy flashlight leading the way along the side of the road.

The letter had included a map and the instructions; go wait at this location. And Connor naively believed that whomever it had been that pulled off a fucking miracle and busted them out of Hoag wasn't leading them into a fucking death trap.

Of course, Murphy being the good brother he was said exactly what he thought of it all being insane and unnecessary. "Why should we bother hiding out in the middle of the woods in the middle of winter when a warm room at a ski resort would be just as good a hide out? Everyone will be wearing goggles and ski masks and all kinds of shit, no one will know it's us."

Connor wished he'd taken Murphy's ski resort idea more seriously as he pulled off his gloves and shined the flashlight at the map again. On the map it had looked like a short distance. The car slid off the road and into a snow bank at the turn a couple miles back when they'd left the main highway. Walking had seemed like a better option than sitting in the car freezing their asses off while waiting for the police to drive by and recognize them.

"How far away did you say it was?"

"Shut it. I didn't." Connor lied. He'd said it was about a mile, about a mile or so ago. The only landmarks around here were trees, and snow, and more trees. He shoved the paper back into his pocket and pulled his gloves back on. "It shouldn't be much farther."

Who could tell how far anything was when everything around looked just like everything else. The snow and ice crunched under their boots and he turned around as he saw Murphy slip on the ice for about the hundredth time. Connor kept walking and could hear Murphy cursing behind him as he caught up.

They rounded another curve in the road and stopped. There was the driveway, marked by a little sign with a wiggling fish on it and the slogan, gone fishing. Lot 262. This was it. It looked like someone had made the effort lately to have the driveway plowed, but the blowing snow was already making new drifts. The lane led up a small hill.

"You see, I told you it wasn't far."

"Looks like the opening credits of a horror movie. Escaped prisoners walking up to a dark deserted cabin in the woods. Then fucking freeze to death. A few years later a group of idiot teenagers come camping and one by one disappear, victims of the prisoner's ghosts." Murphy grumbled.

"Sounds like a shit movie." Connor laughed.

"Just like coming here was a shit idea." At least on the way up the hill the trees on either side of the lane broke a lot of the wind. It took about ten seconds for Murphy to take advantage of that and light himself a cigarette.

At the top of the hill there were two small buildings. A shed with a overhanging roof to protect the pile of firewood there, and a small cabin.

Murphy pushed his foot around in the snow by the front door and found a small gnome figure, just as the letter from their mysterious benefactor described there would be, he picked it up and pulled out the key wedged into the plastic underneath and unlocked the door. Inside was dark and silent. They stomped some of the snow off their boots and entered.

The air inside was just as cold as the air outside. There was already a small pile of logs and kindling and newspaper beside the wood stove and Murphy stood back and finished his cigarette while Connor worked on starting a fire. Light flared for a minute while the paper burned and then the sticks began to catch, and finally the log.

The cabin wasn't big. Connor shined the light around briefly and they could see there were a couple of futons, a square kitchen table that could fit two, and a tiny kitchen counter with cupboards. Murphy settled down on one of the futons, pulled off his boots, and lied down with his jacket still on. Connor followed his lead on the futon opposite.

"Kind of reminds me of the sheep farm." Connor mused.

But Murphy was already asleep.


End file.
